


captive audience

by CallofTheCurlew



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Airport meeting, Alternate Meeting, Cute, M/M, Phandom Reverse Bang, Stranded, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17669051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallofTheCurlew/pseuds/CallofTheCurlew
Summary: It feels silly to actually be glad about airline delays. It’s definitely silly for him to be thankful there was a blizzard, but Dan doesn’t have that many friends to begin with. There’s never been much opportunity for friendship in his line of work, so if latching onto the first person who has shown common interests with him is desperate, well maybe he doesn’t mind being desperate.





	captive audience

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my rockstar beta, insectbah, who made it so easy and totally not scary to have a beta that wasn't someone I already knew. And also to yiffandquiff, who prompted this fic with their wonderful artwork! This was such a fun fic to write!!

Dan hates airports. 

He’s been standing in front of the cute girl at the check-in counter for the past thirty minutes. 

With each tick of the clock, she gets less cute. 

“Sir,” she says, with the never ending patience of someone who’s well accustomed to dealing with unhappy customers, “I know this has been difficult, but please bear with me. We’re only just starting to get updates from Air Traffic Control now. How about you take a seat and I’ll call you up once we have some more information?” 

“I’m not moving.” 

Usually he wouldn’t be such an asshole, but this has officially been the most ridiculous thing he’s experienced by far. Even the time he had to take an emergency trip to the Bahamas wasn’t this bad. At least then, everyone was helpful. 

She - Dan’s looked at her nametag at least seven times but for some reason her name won’t stick. Kira. **Kira.** _Kira._ Kira gives him a look, imploring - _pleading -_ him to just do as she’s said, but he won’t. She doesn’t have the information, and Dan knows that all too well. It’s simply a stall, and that frustrates him, taking over any rational thoughts he usually has and has instead driven him to be an utter dick. 

“Kira, I know you already know this, but I’m going to say it again just so I can be  _ really _ clear with you. I sat at my gate with at least fifty other people for two hours. Our flight was supposed to leave at seven.  _ Seven. _ And we sat until nine without any communication from you and your team except the little monitor that told us we were still ‘waiting to board’.” 

“I understand, Si-” 

“Do you? Because afterwards, when there was finally an airport-wide announcement over the loudspeaker that all flights had been cancelled, you  _ also  _ told us we shouldn’t leave because the snowstorm outside had gotten so bad that it was dangerous to drive. Two hours ago, there wasn’t a snowstorm and this wasn’t a problem, and I could have left then.” 

She has a determined frown now, the set of her chin defiant, “Sir, two hours ago we were unsure how bad the storm would get. Had we let planes fly two hours ago, you may have been caught in this storm, which may have put your life, and the lives of your fellow passengers, in danger. In order to ensure your safe-” 

“I’m not questioning your safety tactics, Kira,” he mutters, but he’s suddenly tired of arguing. There’s no point, and there wasn’t really a point to begin with. “I’m questioning your communication skills on a wide scale of what must be at least a thousand people, maybe more, now stuck in an airport, that most of them have been in for quite a while.” 

“You’re welcome to leave. We’re not prohibiting it, just strongly advising against it.” 

Dan hasn’t got an answer to that. There’s definitely not going to be any cabs out there right now. Outside the window the snow whips around in crazy bursts of energy, slamming against the window and spraying snow across the frosted glass. You couldn’t pay him to leave the comfort and slight warmth of the airport right now. 

“Again,” he heaves a sigh, “Not my point. But it’s fine, Kira. Since you’re so good at predicting the weather, can you tell me how long the storm might last?” 

She keeps his gaze for a few more moments and Dan wonders whether she’ll finally snap. He’s being awful, he knows. He  _ knows _ . But he can’t seem to close his mouth. He’s frustrated, kind of cold and he doesn’t want to be here, in this airport, when all he wants to do is fly home to see his parents. Well, maybe not ‘all he wants to do’, but it’s been the tradition for the last eight years and he doesn’t care to deviate from it. 

“Do you have internet on your phone, Sir? If so, I suggest checking that for weather updates. It may be a more reliable source.” 

Two minutes ago and he would’ve asked to speak to her manager, but right now he just laughs, hanging his head, “Yeah. Good idea. Thanks Kira…” he mumbles, “And thanks for your patience.” 

It’s the only thing he can say, but she’s smiling again at least, seemingly pleased with her tiny victory. Dan can’t be mad anymore. He just wants to find a phone charger and curl up in the corner to sleep. At least they released his luggage. He has that to be thankful for. 

“Daniel Howell?” 

He’s only walked two feet before Kira is in front of him and he realises how short she is. She didn’t look this short from behind the counter. 

“Um, yes?” 

“Here,” she puts three vouchers in his hand, “For use anywhere in the airport. Sorry for the inconvenience.” 

She disappears as quickly as she arrived and Dan glances down. It’s two vouchers for seven pounds each, which will cover some food and drinks, and one pass so he can check his bag in to the storage service. It’s not much, but it’s a thoughtful gesture, given how rude he’d been to her. It’s not her fault, he knows, but regular updates would have been nice. 

Slightly bereft of purpose, he wanders up to the ‘left luggage’ station. Getting rid of his big, bulky bag is the first step, and then he’s decided he’ll find somewhere cosy to sit on his laptop until it inevitably runs out of battery. There are probably charging ports around here somewhere, but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Before he approaches the luggage desk, he retrieves a coat from his suitcase in case the temperature drops any more. He stalls and deliberates, finding a couple of other items he thinks might be useful through the night.  Armed with his satchel full of his laptop, phone, wallet and charging cables, he’s ready to take on the airport. 

The first hour he spends wandering aimlessly. The airport is busy, full of people and their families who have a vaguely pissed-off demeanour about them, much like Dan does. He overhears people complaining on the phone to their loved ones, some of them bad mouthing the airline staff so badly that a surge of guilt wash over Dan. He should’ve been nicer to Kira. It’s not really her fault, he knows. She might’ve appreciated having someone understanding talk to her.

He doesn’t have to walk too far before he finds a coffee shop - Ca’puccino. It’s properly Italian in a way that makes Dan nervous. Even though he’s not ordering anything on the menu, the thought of having to say any of those orders and completely butcher the pronunciation has him quaking. He focuses instead on the coffee menu, which seems fairly standard. It’s coffee, after all. He almost orders a hot chocolate instead, but with titles like ‘Gianduja’ and ‘Della casa’, he’s just not ready to face the embarrassment of saying it wrong. 

He stands in line for his coffee and checks his phone, which hasn’t come up with any more notifications since the last time he checked it about five minutes ago.

It’s going to be a long night. 

He sighs, collecting his coffee when his name is called and starting the journey back to his gate. He’d explore more now, but he wants to save that for when he’s absolutely bored out of his mind. 

There’s a chair for him to sit in and he does, but he doesn’t pull out his laptop quite yet. He wants to finish his coffee and take as much time as he can in between each new activity. The storm outside doesn’t seem to be in the mood for letting up anytime soon, so he’s already resigned himself to staying the night. 

On any other day, it might be exciting, but not today; not when he just wants to get back to his parents’ house and deal with his family and tolerate Christmas before being allowed to go home. 

The seat he’s chosen gives a good view of the runways at least; eerily empty without the constant coming and going of planes. 

“Come  _ on _ .” 

The desperate exclamation makes Dan turn his head. A young man (at least, Dan thinks he’s young; it’s hard to tell underneath that dark mess of hair) crouches beside a charging point, trying to jam a charger into his phone. Dan squints slightly, matching phone to cable and realising that the guy definitely has the wrong one. 

He doesn’t say anything, because that’s not who he is, but continues to watch him try the other chargers from the multiple spilling from his bag.

None of them seem to be fitting. It’s an iPhone, and Dan has a spare lightning cable the man could borrow... but Dan’s not like that. He watches him struggle more before the man gives up. He hasn’t got the right one. 

He gets up with a huff that can only be described as peak frustration.

And then he starts to pace. 

It’s okay at first. Dan blocks him out, staring at his phone instead. But he’s inconsistent with his paces, sometimes walking faster or slower, and Dan can see him out of the corner of his eye. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. 

Back. And. Forth. 

Dan tries a hundred things: looking in the other direction, shifting so the man isn’t in his line of sight, desperately trying to concentrate on something else so the guy doesn’t irritate him any longer. 

But nothing. Whatever Dan tries, he can still see him, or hear his shoes on the cheap carpet. 

It’s starting to piss him off. 

He grits his teeth. He’s not the type to say anything, but he just might. It’s another agitating fifteen minutes before he can’t take it anymore.  

“Mate,” he finally utters. 

As the man turns around, it finally occurs to Dan that he could’ve just moved. Picked up his little ensemble and found a different terminal to sit in. Or moved two feet away to sit in a different direction. 

He regrets everything as he catches the wild look in the other man's’ eye. 

“ _ What _ ?”

It’s said with such ferocity that Dan has the urge to just apologise and move on with his life. But he was kind of pissed to begin with and now he’s extra pissed and the fact that he’s stuck in a terminal isn’t helping his case. 

“We’re all stuck here waiting and I’d appreciate not getting hypnotized by your pacing.” 

“Nobody else seems to be bothered,  _ mate.”  _ the guy replies, mocking Dan for his use of the word. “I’m allowed to walk. Why don’t you just turn around?”

Dan is at a loss for words, having questioned himself about it too. He tries to come up with something -  _ anything -  _ but all that comes out is a weak, “Why should I have to move when you’re the one already standing?”

The man just huffs, rolling his eyes, “Right, whatever. Enjoy your view.” 

He storms away, but Dan doesn’t feel the pride of a victory, like he usually would. He just feels like an ass. Why is he so  _ moody _ today? 

He glances around to see if anyone else saw their exchange, and of course there were people who did. They hide their heads in their phones and iPads and pretend they didn’t just see the whole thing, but their eyes aren’t moving on the page and Dan  _ knows _ they all heard and saw. 

Logically, Dan knows that they weren’t even that loud, and it’s only the handful of people scattered around that really heard the whole thing, but suddenly it feels like the entire airport knows. 

He can’t sit here and be judged by the people at Gate A17, so he packs up his things again.

Maybe exploring  _ is _ the next activity. 

He pulls his satchel closer and walks slowly, taking his time. He enters each shop meticulously, poking around the  _ Sunglasses Hut _ , drifting to  _ Thomas Pink _ to look at the pretentious, well tailored suits without any intention of purchasing. He thumbs the fabric and wonders if there will ever be a time in his meagre little life that a suit like this would ever be something he’d actively search for. 

Another half an hour passes in  _ Boots _ , where he wastes his time looking at things he’s never bothered to look at before. Explicit hair care instructions from the back of a travel shampoo bottle are his favourite, as well as a book on how to properly wash lettuce. He politely declines a malaria vaccination from the woman at the counter. 

He manages to waste almost two hours, ambling slowly like this through the different stores, watching his phone battery slowly drain every time he checks the time. The storm changes the entire time, dying for just long enough that Dan is pretty sure it might have stopped, before ramping up again with such incredible malice that Dan wonders if it will  _ ever _ end. 

Finally he makes it to a tiny bar;  _ London’s Pride _ . It’s almost midnight, and he’s tired, but he figures a drink might actually make him feel better. He’s not really a drinker; a social wine here and there with friends is often enough, but maybe today he deserves it, after how terrible everything has turned out.

It’s mostly empty, save for a few people scattered at the actual bar. Someone seems to be passed out in the corner chairs, but Dan isn’t really sure. 

He walks in, dumping his phone and wallet on the counter and giving the bartender the friendliest look he can manage. 

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks with a sympathetic little smile, drying up a glass as she speaks. 

“Um…” Dan glances at the drinks on tap, wincing and shrugging, “A Guinness? Please.”

She nods, reaching for a taller glass and filling it up. Dan idly wonders if his vouchers would cover alcohol, but he doesn’t bother to check, handing over a note to pay. 

“Oh.” 

The groan to his right is familiar, but Dan doesn’t realise why until he glances over. 

It’s the man from before - the one pacing in front of the window. Dan’s heart and stomach plummet into his shoes and he stares in horror. Without the bravado of irritation, all he can feel is the fear racing into his throat, beating so hard the other man can probably see it beneath the neckline of his shirt. 

Of all places, why did Dan have to choose this one? 

But he doesn’t look angry. He actually looks concerned himself, like a deer in the headlights. A very cute deer, Dan thinks idly. 

“You following me or something?” the other man seems to choke on his words, like it took a lot of effort to get out. 

Dan’s fear isn’t as intense anymore - this man doesn’t seem like he’s about to rage at him suddenly. Dan calms slightly, letting out a soft breath. 

“Uhm,” Dan manages, and he watches the other man’s eyebrows rising, probably judging him for his eloquence. 

“Gonna comment on slurping my beer too loud?” his voice lilts at the end, baiting him.  

“You slurp?” 

It’s the only thing that falls from Dan’s mouth and he regrets it immediately. To his surprise, the other man doesn’t get up and immediately punch him, but instead barks out a laugh. Dan almost jumps in surprise at the unexpectedness of it all, sucking in a deep breath, before he lets out a short giggle as well. The other man continues to laugh, leaning back in his chair. His tongue pokes out of his mouth, crushed between his teeth, and Dan can’t help but feel like it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.   

“Sorry,” the other man says softly, once he seems to have calmed down. “Last thing I expected you to say.”  

Dan grins slightly, no longer intimidated by this dork. “What did you expect?” 

“A fight? I was being a bit of a dick.”

“Only in retaliation to my equal dick-ness,” Dan says, realising it’s not quite a smooth sentence after it leaves his mouth. What’s  _ wrong _ with him today?

He shrugs, running four fingers through his tousled quiff. Dan watches as the strands settle exactly where they were before. 

“I wasn’t exactly being a good sharer of common areas,” he admits. “I should’ve gone for a walk somewhere else.” 

“ _ I  _ should’ve just turned around, or tuned you out.” 

“Maybe we’re equally as dicky as each other,” the man finally says with a smile, and Dan grins and nods. 

“Agreed. Can I get you another drink, to compensate?” 

“Only if you let me do the same? I’m Phil, by the way.” 

After Dan concedes and gives Phil his name, he orders him the same as what Phil already has; something he’s never heard of, but is definitely very sweet and probably quite fruity. They shift, both moving one seat closer so they don’t have to speak loudly anymore. 

“Pretty shit situation though,” Dan comments after he’s taken a long sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” Phil nods, “I kind of wish they’d mentioned it sooner. I could be home playing my Switch right now.” 

“Nintendo Switch, you mean?” Dan asks, immediately intrigued. 

“What else?” Phil asks, beaming brightly. Dan likes his smile, especially the way his eyes crinkle with the intensity of it. 

“Alright then,” Dan grins, leaning on the bar, “What do you like playing?” 

Conversations don’t usually go this well for Dan. Pleasantries and niceties are about as much as he can manage, usually. It’s not until day two of forced interaction with the same person that Dan manages to find a common interest. Maybe it’s the Guinness, or maybe it’s because they’re both stuck drinking at a bar in an airport at midnight.

“Well,” he starts, and Dan figures he’s in for a story, “I’ve been playing Breath of the Wild - a Zelda game -  since the release.” 

Dan likes that he had to clarify, as if he couldn’t tell that Dan knew exactly what he was talking about. 

“And it’s been pretty good, but the new Pokemon game has just come out, and Spyro is  _ also _ out on the PlayStation 4  _ and  _ all of my friends are talking about Fallout 76  _ and  _ Red Dead Redemption 2…” Phil sighs dramatically, laying both hands on the bar, palms upwards in despair. “There’s no end to the choices available and I’m just not sure how to juggle it all.” 

Dan finally understands why the conversation is so easy. Phil’s cheeks are  _ very  _ flushed, his eyes too bright, the telltale sign of tipsiness. He  _ had _ been in here when Dan came in - maybe he’d been here since he stormed off. He doesn’t seem drunk, exactly (not that Dan knows what that looks like on this person), but he’s definitely not completely sober. He wonders if it would be more awkward without the gentle buzz. 

It’s okay though - Dan’s not put off like he usually would be. He’s  _ actually _ enjoying himself for once, and not so caught up on his own mannerisms, or how Phil might be interpreting the way he holds himself, or the way his words come out. 

“I totally get you,” Dan says with a grin. Phil hasn’t been drinking very much - his tall glass remains mostly full, and Dan wonders if Phil’s realised that he’s been rambling to a stranger about video games. He wants to put Phil at ease, the same way he’s made Dan feel. “I’m exactly the same; and we have the new Kingdom Hearts coming out in January as well. I don’t think I’ll even be able to fit that one in…” 

Phil’s eyes switch to high beam and his grin widens, “Did you play any of the ones on the PSP?” 

“No…” Dan laments, “But I watched an hour long recap just the other week so I could learn all about the new characters…” 

Their drinks get abandoned as the gaming talk continues. Dan’s glass becomes wet with condensation but he doesn’t think to ever pick it back up. He’s buzzed enough and he doesn’t want to go further, and Phil seems to be coming down from wherever he was going. The more sober he gets, he more animated he becomes - something Dan thought worked in reverse. 

“And  _ that  _ is why seven will always be the best Final Fantasy,” Phil finishes a lengthy rant, one that had Dan captivated the entire way through. 

“The best part about that whole scenario is that I never once disagreed with you, and yet you tried to convince me anyway.” 

A light blush appears on Phil’s cheeks but he’s grinning still. “I’ll never pass up an opportunity to talk about Final Fantasy.”  

“I always wanted to call my dog Nanaki,” Dan comments, “...but I’m always afraid of using non-Western names in case it means something I don’t know about. And then maybe everyone will think I’m pretentious.” 

“Except for the people who get it,” Phil interjects, “And then you’ll be the coolest person in the world.” 

Dan laughs, “I don’t think I’ll  _ ever  _ be the coolest person in the world to anyone.” 

“That’s not true,” Phil admonishes immediately, “...some day you’re gonna make  _ at least _ one person incredibly happy.” 

Dan wonders if he’s always this sweet to random strangers, or if it’s the alcohol that’s done this. Phil’s cheeks aren’t so red anymore though, and he certainly seems more level headed. 

He can’t think of anything to say that isn’t dismissive or just as cheesy, so he settles for a soft, “Thanks…” 

Phil heaves a huge tired sigh, stretching with both arms until his back pops. He winces with a soft noise of disgust, and Dan chuckles quietly. It prompts him to crack his own knuckles, to which Phil continues to make disgusted noises at him. Once he’s finished, Dan finally locates his drink but quickly realises he doesn’t actually want it anymore and orders a water instead. The bartender clears away their untouched drinks and Phil orders a water as well. 

“Did you manage to get a charger?” Dan asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence they’d settled into. 

Phil glances at him in confusion, “A charger?” 

“Oh,” Dan murmurs, realising that he wasn’t supposed to have seen Phil wrestling with his chargers. “Umm, before you were pacing. You were trying to charge your phone.” 

Phil’s lips quirk into a small smile. “No,” he says softly, “I forgot my cable, and the ones here are, like, thirty pounds each, which is  _ ridiculous _ and I’m not paying that much when I’ve got about forty cables at home.” 

“Captive audience,” Dan comments idly, and Phil makes a soft hum of agreement. 

“That’s half the reason I was so pissed off. I couldn’t text my Mum and tell her about the delays. She’ll probably be freaking out. Hopefully my brother checks the airline and tells her… but still.” 

Dan’s heart melts just a little more. “I have a lightning cable,” he says, “We can go find a charging station and you can use it, if you’d like?”

“Are you sure? That’s so nice of you. You don’t have to- I mean, I’m just some stranger at the bar...that yelled at you when we first met…” he winces. 

Dan had forgotten about that, and he laughs, “Nothing like Christmas airport stress to bring people together, right?” 

Phil looks relieved as he laughs as well, nodding. “Alright. If you don’t mind, I’d be very grateful for the use of your cable.” 

“You know,” Dan says as they thank the bartender and gather their things, “I think talking about video games over drinks for…” Dan checks his phone and laughs, “Two hours, kind of negates the whole ‘yelled at each other’ thing.” 

“Has it really been two hours?” Phil asks in surprise, “I swear we only just sat down!” 

Dan laughs, “I spent two agonising hours wandering around this airport and I lived every minute twice. This felt like nothing.” 

“Shows you what good company does,” Phil beams, walking beside him. 

It’s nice. Comfortable. Dan’s never felt at ease with another person like this before. He’s never felt the need to have conversations with strangers, or offer pieces of his life to people in passing. But this… it feels like catching up with an old friend after a long period of time apart. Like he’s known this man his entire life. 

It feels silly to actually be glad about airline delays. It’s definitely silly for him to be thankful there was a blizzard, but Dan doesn’t have that many friends to begin with. There’s never been much opportunity for friendship in his line of work, so if latching onto the first person who has shown common interests with him is desperate, well maybe he doesn’t mind being desperate.

Together they find a mostly empty gate. There are two teenagers making out in the corner, and an elderly couple sitting right in the middle of a row, but the charging ports are thankfully empty. 

Dan fishes the cable from his satchel and plugs it in, passing the other end to Phil so he can plug in his phone. 

“So where were you headed?” Phil asks. “If that’s not too weird a question?” 

“Not at all. My family is celebrating Christmas in Glasgow this year, at the request of my little brother,” Dan says with a roll of his eyes.

“You don’t get along with him?” Phil asks, concern sparkling in his beautiful blue eyes. 

“It’s not that…” Dan says, shrugging, “He’s just the golden child, if you know what I mean? Vegan, fitness freak, student, got a life going for him…” Dan chuckles, “And I’m just the college dropout that manages a social media account for some retail company and plays too many video games.” 

“Hey…” Phil murmurs, “There’s nothing wrong with that.”  

There’s pity in Phil’s voice, and Dan hates that. He hates that he got so comfortable that he revealed half his secrets in their first proper conversation. 

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to just offload. Christmas is a weird time. All the people I usually try to avoid are suddenly forced upon me.” 

“It’s okay,” Phil replies, “I don’t mind you offloading. It’s hard sometimes, and it’s okay that it’s hard. It just… takes working though.” 

“What about you?” Dan asks quickly, trying to change the course of the conversation. Phil doesn’t need to know how hard it gets. Not just yet, at least. “Where were you off to?” 

“The Isle of Man,” he replies. “My family always head over for Christmas. Everyone - my brother, his girlfriend and my parents - are all there already, but I - well, I had a thing I was coming back from so I’m hopelessly late and missing all of the cool family things.” 

“A thing?” Dan notices his stumble over the word, raising an eyebrow, “And what cool family things do you usually do?”

“A thing, yes,” Phil wrinkles his nose adorably and shrugs. “Just this weird Youtube thing.” 

“Weird?” 

Phil shrugs again, “You know. Like a meet-up.” 

“Why is that weird though? It’s 2018, Phil. Everyone is a Youtuber these days.” 

Phil rolls his eyes and laughs, “Sorry,” he grins, “I forgot you were cool. Usually at Christmas I’m explaining this for the fourth time to a bunch of deaf relatives who don’t understand that I’ve made a career out of it.”

“A career?” Dan asks. “Like, a proper Youtuber?” 

Phil looks sheepish again, but he’s grinning. “A bit. Kind of proper. Nowhere near  _ popular _ but I’ve got a fanbase.” 

“A  _ fanbase?”  _ Dan asks in wonder, “What the hell, Phil? Can I see?” 

Phil rolls his eyes but he reaches for Dan’s phone, opening the Youtube app. If it was anyone else, Dan would have been mortified.  _ Nobody _ touches his phone. But he doesn’t mind when Phil does it. 

He types for a moment before Phil’s face appears on the screen:  _ AmazingPhil. _

“ _ Amazing _ Phil?” Dan raises an eyebrow and Phil laughs. 

“Shut up. I bet your 2006 screen name wasn’t any better.”

“Touche,” Dan says, thinking back and trying to remember. It’s been so long since he’d used it, “Oh,” he laughs, rolling his eyes, “I think one of my first ones was  _ danisnotonfire.”  _

“See, just as bad. You just had the advantage of not having to stick with it for the past twelve years.” 

“Twelve years…” Dan whistles, “That’s a long time to be on Youtube,” he murmurs, glancing at the subscriber count and gasping, “ _ Three million?  _ What the hell? What do you mean, ‘not popular’?” 

Phil looks sheepish but also kind of pleased. 

“You’re just walking around here casual as hell but in reality you’re an internet legend?” 

Phil laughs quietly. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he promises, “My corner of the internet is very niche, and mostly my fanbase consists of teenage girls who think I’m cute and quirky.” 

“And for good reason, too,” Dan says, before he’s properly thought about the words coming out of his mouth. He blushes and pretends he didn’t say it, scrolling through the channel, reading the titles. “Niche indeed,” Dan murmurs with a small grin. “I like how you tried to go into ASMR here before completely abandoning it.”

“No hate,” Phil whines softly, but he’s smiling. “I’m not known for consistency.” 

“This is pretty crazy. I’m bookmarking this,” Dan grins, making sure to add it to his favourites. 

“Just keep in mind: it’s niche,” Phil warns. 

Dan just smiles and puts his phone down, his head reeling. Phil just got even more interesting than he already was, and Dan was pretty interested to begin with. 

“Anyway, we were talking about something else before I got distracted by the fact that I’m talking to a celebrity.” 

Phil is laughing again and Dan wants to see that happen more often. His tongue slots between his teeth again and Dan’s never been more taken with someone in the first few hours of meeting them in his life. 

“Missing out on family things?” Phil supplies. 

“Oh yes, family things. What kind of family things do your parents do?” 

It’s not the most riveting of conversations but Dan is interested anyway, and it’s better than sitting with the company of his laptop. 

“Oh,” Phil shrugs. “The usual, I guess. We go for walks across the island, along the cliffs to look at the view of the ocean. We… play board games and sing songs and watch Christmas specials and drink mulled wine and eggnog. My mum cooks until we’re all fat and lazy so we can’t go home…” Phil murmurs fondly.

A pang of sadness spears Dan through the heart. It sounds perfect. A stark contrast to how awkward and uncomfortable he is about returning home. It’s not like the act sounds appealing - spending time with  _ anyone _ makes him uncomfortable - but it’s the fondness in Phil’s voice that sets him off. 

“It sounds nice... “ 

Phil must catch his tone or something because his head snaps around to look at Dan, curiosity and concern in his eyes. 

“Yeah?” 

Dan nods, playing with his phone charger cable. Christmas is  _ so _ weird. All the strange thoughts and feelings that whirl in his head seem so much stronger at this time of year. He hates it.

“Hey.” Phil nudges him under the table. “Tell me about your family. What do they do?” 

Phil has mistaken Dan’s sadness for - well, Dan doesn’t know what. But he appreciates that Phil is trying to cheer him up all the same. 

“Well... “ Dan muses, “Adrian, my little brother, is vegan, so he does most of the cooking, and he’s teaching my mum. So...you know, tofu, yay,” he laughs. “It’s not that bad actually, and I try to- you know, also be vegan, most of the time.” 

“I don’t think I could survive, to be honest,” Phil murmurs quietly. “I was thinking about all the sweets that are made from gelatin.” 

Dan laughs quietly, “It’s not all that bad, and Adrian is a good cook. I just miss the getting fat and lazy at Christmas.”

Being with his family isn’t bad, and truthfully it’s never as awkward as he makes it out to be, especially now he’s an adult. But the memory of being there, and the anticipation of having to go back is the worst part. 

Phil nods and Dan is grateful that he’s leaving the conversation where it died. He watches as Phil checks the charging screen on his phone, turning it on as he’s apparently satisfied by how much it’s charged.

“Mm,” Phil winces, once all of his notifications start filtering in. “Twenty missed calls, between Martyn and my parents.” 

Dan laughs, “Oh boy. I texted my Mum and got a ‘k’ in response.” 

Phil giggles softly, “Two seconds, I’m just gonna call.” 

“It’s like, four in the morning.”

“Mum will be up baking already. And besides, she’d prefer me call even if it was one in the morning, just to know I’m safe.” 

Dan tries not to listen to the conversation, but he can’t help the warmth in his chest at how Phil sounds, talking to his parents. It’s completely different to the types of conversations Dan has with his own family. 

“Yes, okay, okay. I’ll catch the next flight I can, I promise! Yes, tell Martyn not to eat all the cakes. Yes! Okay, yes. Goodbye I’m hanging up now, love you!” 

Phil’s grinning widely as he hangs up, putting his phone back on charge. 

“Thank you. They were worried, but Martyn  _ did  _ check the flights and they saw the delay.” 

“My pleasure,” Dan says happily, “I don’t mind at all. Thank  _ you  _ for keeping me company.” 

“That sounds a bit final…” Phil wrinkles his nose, “Are you leaving me?” 

“Not unless you want me to leave,” 

Phil shakes his head violently, “Not at all. But I am getting tired, and I genuinely think I’ll fall asleep if I sit here any longer. Can we go for a walk?”

“They have sleeping bays?”

“Yeah… but I think every man and his family will be taking them up. Besides, I don’t really want to sleep in some weird place. I’d rather just stay awake until we can either go home or get our flights.” 

Dan nods, getting to his feet and stretching. He unplugs his cords, settling them back into his bag. 

“I’ve already explored up here. But…” Dan brings up the little terminal map he’d acquired. “we can go downstairs and check out the stores there?” 

Phil nods. “Sounds good! Lead the way.” 

Together they head down the escalator to a whole new set of stores. They make fun of overpriced technology and duty free alcohol, sampling  _ every  _ perfume and cologne they can find. By the time they’re done, they both smell incredible but Dan is  _ actually _ tired. 

“Okay. I admit defeat. Want to go sit down and watch the storm?” 

“Definitely. But first, snacks. Wanna go grab some pastries while I get some crisps?” 

“Deal. We’ll meet back at A17 in ten minutes?”

“You’re on.” 

When they part, Dan uses his vouchers to order them chocolate, caramel and plain pastries, not really knowing which Phil would like (all of them, he suspects). 

Damn this AmazingPhil, keeping such good company. He hurries back, eager to return to Phil, and suddenly unsure what he’s going to do without his company once they leave. 

Back at A17, Phil hasn’t returned yet, so Dan goes scouting for a good seat. He finds a two-seated chair in an empty row in front of the windows. If Phil comments on the fact that there’s two seats, well, he’ll say they were all full when he got there. 

Outside, the blizzard is still raging strong. He’s resigned to the fact that they aren’t going to be flying any time soon. Perhaps he  _ will _ be enjoying a Christmas Day alone in his apartment. 

Another five minutes pass and Dan is starting to get worried. He glances around, twisting in his seat to try and spot Phil, unsure what direction he’d come from. 

It’s another five minutes before Dan wonders whether Phil’s coming back at all. He keeps checking his phone as if he might get an explanatory text, but he knows he doesn’t have Phil’s number. Maybe Phil didn’t actually enjoying hanging out with him. Maybe this pastries-and-crisps idea had all been an elaborate plan to ditch him, and the pastries were just a consolation prize. Dan had been enjoying himself so much that he didn’t even stop to think that it might’ve been awful or boring for Phil. 

He hates being that selfish. Usually he tries to gauge the other people he’s with, to make sure that he isn’t being too awkward around them, but he - well, he can’t even remember if Phil seemed uncomfortable. Had he been that narrow minded? Had he really not even consid-

“Sorry about that!” 

Dan almost jumps out of his skin with a quiet gasp of fright as Phil lands heavily in the seat next to him. He’s so busy getting over the shock that he doesn’t remember to be relieved that Phil hadn’t abandoned him. 

“Oh my god,” Dan murmurs, a hand over his poor heart that is still freaking out against his ribcage. 

“Sorry,” Phil giggles, “I had to find my luggage and get another coat, and I grabbed a blanket too - are you cold?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer, opening up the small folded square of blanket and throwing it over both of their legs. Phil tucks it beneath his own legs, somehow shifting closer as he does so their thighs are pressed against each other.  Dan does the same, pushing the fabric beneath his thigh and pretending that it’s not weird. This isn’t something that strangers usually do, and something ignites in Dan’s chest, maybe hope that the feelings aren’t one-sided. 

“I got pastries,” Dan finally says, passing over the bag. 

Phil immediately picks out the chocolate one and takes a large bite, and the moan he releases is almost too obscene for Dan to handle. He can’t help his laugh. 

“Alright there?” 

“Mm, have you tried these yet?” Phil grunts, taking another bite. 

Dan has to say, he’s curious, and he rummages for his own chocolate one. With a tentative bite, he understands what Phil is on about. It’s  _ perfect _ , and it’s perfect for this moment - cuddled here under a blanket with a stranger in front of a storm. 

“It’s good,” he nods, taking another bite. 

“It’s better than good. It’s like Santa came down and baked them himself to perfection.” 

“Mr. Claus can bake? I thought that was his wife’s job.” 

“Don’t gender stereotype,” Phil teases, nudging him the best he can. “What do you think Santa does all year besides oversee the present making?” 

“With all that Elf Slave Labor?” 

“Noo…” Phil whines, shaking his head, “the elves love making presents for all the children…” 

“Is Santa paying them though?” 

“Paying them with love.” 

“Not good enough. Someone get ACAS on the phone, stat.” 

Phil dissolves into giggles again, shaking his head. 

They lapse into another comfortable silence, disrupted only by their chewing. Phil breaks out the crisps and they eat, watching the storm. It seems to have dulled considerably, the snow falling slowly instead of being battered around by the wind. 

“Do you think they’ll resume flights?” Phil asks softly, yawning. 

“Eventually,” Dan nods, “I might go home first though. Have a shower and a nap. There’s still a few days until Christmas, anyway.” 

Phil nods, considering. “It sounds like a good plan,” he murmurs quietly.

Phil’s getting sleepier and sleepier by the second, and Dan keeps quiet, not wanting to rouse him. It isn’t long before Phil pitches to the side, leaning heavily against Dan’s shoulder. Eventually Dan feels Phil’s weight fall and his head drops to Dan’s shoulder as well. 

Dan freezes, breathing shallowly to stop the rise and fall of his chest. Dan’s tired too, but there’s no way he’s going to move right now. 

He likes Phil. He likes him more than he’s ever liked anyone within such a short timeframe. He supposes he doesn’t really know him, but he likes the stuff he knows so far. He’s kind and sweet and he’s into video games, and he’s funny and incredibly cute, asleep there on Dan’s shoulder. And… more importantly, he chose to come back. 

It’s not until Dan’s blinking awake that he realises he’d fallen asleep too. Phil still lays against him, breathing deeply. Not too much time has passed, maybe an hour, and outside the storm has stopped. Weak sunlight is starting to cover the snow covered airport, and Dan lets out a tiny little groan. 

His back already hurts from sleeping in a chair, especially at the odd angle against Phil, but he actually feels pretty good.  

Phil grumbles softly, and it’s apparent when he wakes because he immediately sits up. “Oh, sorry…” he murmurs softly. 

“No, it’s fine,” Dan says, quick to assure him that it really  _ is  _ okay. 

Without Phil’s weight on top of him, Dan sits up and looks around, finding that the airport is mostly deserted now. Dan figures that as soon as they could, people left. He’ll go to the check in counter again before he leaves and see what he can do about his flight, but for now he’s content to just sit and wake up some more. 

“I could go for a coffee…” Phil murmurs, rubbing his eyes and groaning. “Ugh, I should  _ not  _ have slept in my contacts…” 

“You wear glasses?” Dan asks. 

“Mhm. I’m honestly blind as a bat,” he huffs, rubbing his eyes carefully. “Alright. A wee, change into my glasses, and then coffee?” 

“Good plan.” Dan nods, removing the blanket from his lap and standing up to stretch. He thinks it’s nice that Phil wants to have breakfast with him. They’re really still just strangers - Dan doesn’t even know his last name. But they’ve chosen to stick it out together. 

In the toilets, Dan watches with morbid curiosity as Phil pinches the tiny bits of silicone in his eye, replacing them with thick-framed glasses that make him look even more gorgeous. The thick black frames complement his dark hair and his bright blue eyes. Dan sighs - he really needs to get it together. 

Finally they trudge to the closest coffee shop, ordering croissants and coffee. Phil even offers to pay, which has Dan’s heart ricocheting around his chest. He’s reading too far into it. He is. Despite his protests, Phil pays anyway. 

“You know what’s crazy?” 

Dan looks up from his latte art, trying to figure out what this incredibly intricate mess is supposed to be. It mostly looks like a Santa face, but only if Santa was two-thirds orc.

“What?” 

“We spent all this time together and I still don’t have your number yet.” 

Dan blinks, taking a second to read the tightly pursed lips and bright eyes, before a grin takes over Dan’s entire face. “Smooth.” 

Phil’s smile becomes just as wide. “One of us had to do it, right?” 

Dan isn’t completely sure, but the little ‘right’ at the end seems more than just an absent confirmation.

“I’m glad you did,” Dan says quietly, pulling out his phone and offering it to Phil. “Here.” 

Phil takes it, passing his to Dan and they key in their numbers to each other. Dan’s fingers are shaking so much that he can barely get it in, which is ridiculous because he’s not usually such a mess. But encounters like this… well, he’s not prepared for these feelings. He wasn’t ready for a guy called Phil to wander into his life like this. 

“Whereabouts do you live usually?” Phil asks once he’s put Dan’s phone down. 

“Oh, just in London,” Dan answers, and Phil’s eyes lit up. 

“Me too! What a coincidence…” 

Dan rolls his eyes, “Two lads at Heathrow Airport, living in London? Not too much of a coincidence there.” 

“Hush, and let me have my coincidence.” 

Dan grins, settling back to continue eating his breakfast. 

All of a sudden, he doesn’t want to leave the airport. He’s had so much genuine fun in the past couple of hours that he doesn’t want to leave and break this spell. 

“So…” Phil says, and Dan lifts his head to gaze across at him, suddenly melancholy, “I get back on the second of January. Do you think we can maybe meet up again? You can show me how to get past the dungeon in Zelda?” 

Maybe Phil is a mind reader. Or maybe, just maybe, Phil was having the same thoughts. 

Dan’s nodding before he’s even finished talking. “I’d really like that.”

Phil seems pleased. “It’s a shame we can’t tonight. I mean, well, depending on our flights. Well, actually... oh, no, we’d need to nap, so probably not.” 

Dan can’t really follow his monologue, in which Phil seems to be chatting to himself. “What?” 

“Oh, I was thinking. Depending on when our flights are, you could just come over today and we can play?” 

Dan was worried he’d come across as desperate if he tried to say anything of the sort, but it doesn’t seem so bad with Phil out here doing the exact same thing. Dan finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“We can check at the desk?” 

He feels like they’re kids, asking permission from their mums if it’s okay to go play. But Phil’s enthusiasm makes it okay. He doesn’t feel weird or desperate or creepy with Phil standing there right next to him, being as into it as Dan is. 

They line up at the counter, where a sleepy looking staff member (not Kira) types in Phil’s name. His last name is Lester, which is just another piece added to the puzzle that Dan is very interested in completing. 

“You’ve been rescheduled for a flight in two hours,” she says. “You should have received a text and confirmation email…” 

“Oh…” Phil murmurs, pulling out his phone and marvelling when it lights up with a text. Clearly he hasn’t checked it since he called his mum. Dan can hear the disappointment in his voice when he speaks again. “Oh, okay, cool. Thank you.” 

Dan quickly realises he hasn’t checked  _ his _ phone either, and before he bothers the attendant, he checks his notifications. A confirmation text tells him his flight is in four hours, which makes him even more upset. Having to watch Phil leave was something he hadn’t considered. 

“Well...there goes that plan,” Phil grumbles, stretching again, “I better go check in my bag…” 

“I’ll come.”

Phil smiles at him, but his head is down in his phone as they walk. Dan wonders if he might be talking to his mother and giving her an update. 

“Is that AmazingPhil?”   

Dan almost doesn’t hear it, but Phil does, pausing in his tracks. 

“Was that…?” 

Phil spots the young girl who said it, standing with what appears to be her parents. She looks mortified at having said it out loud, even more so when Phil plasters on a smile and heads over. 

Dan follows on his heels, curious and bewildered. 

“Hey there!” 

“Oh my god, hi.” 

She’s red faced and overwhelmingly excited, and when Phil opens his arms for a hug she all but leaps into them, laughing delightedly. Dan can’t get over just how surreal this whole experience is. Phil asks for her name and they get a selfie together, and Dan even offers to take a proper picture of them both, to which she gleefully accepts. 

After that, they bid each other goodbye and things somehow settle, despite the way it feels like the world has just been turned upside-down. 

“What the hell?” 

Phil laughs, embarrassed again. “Sorry. She’s a fan.” 

“Well clearly,” Dan laughs. “I mean, I knew there were three million of them, but… for some reason I didn’t expect one right here…” 

“They’re pretty much everywhere,” Phil laughs. 

“Do you get worried about them, like, following you around the airport taking creeper shots?” 

Phil shrugs, “It happens sometimes, honestly. But it’s alright. It used to bother me, but it doesn’t anymore.” 

“After twelve years, I’m not surprised.” 

“She was alright though. Usually they approach, and sometimes I’m totally not ready for it. Once in the very beginning, at a meet up, some girl licked my face! It was awful!” 

Phil continues to tell him stories of his weird, wonderful life as he checks in his bags again and they head to Phil’s new terminal. He talks about the conventions that he goes to, the people he meets, and the opportunities that he’s been given while part of the Youtube community. Phil even pulls up pictures from the two national tours he’s been on. He says he wants to take it international one day, but he doesn’t know if he could pull it off alone. 

The more Dan hears, the more he wants to be part of it. He wants to know his stories, his thoughts and feelings, and not just the snapshot he’s getting from the few short hours they have. 

Two hours pass too quickly, and long before Dan is ready, Phil’s flight is being announced.

Phil looks pained as he stands, his eyebrows drawn tightly together. 

“I don’t really want to go,” Phil chokes out half a laugh. “Is that weird?” 

“I don’t want you to go,” Dan admits, “and yeah. It’s a bit weird.” 

They laugh and for a moment, Dan feels bold. Phil likes him too, that much is clear, and Dan doesn’t know if he could let Phil go without holding his arms out for him first. Phil looks relieved, stepping closer and wrapping his own around Dan tightly. 

He feels good to hug. It’s kind of what their night had been missing, and Dan sighs happily. 

“Go,” he says softly. “Go see your Mum. We can figure out… whatever the hell this is in the new year.” 

Phil pulls back and he looks reluctant, but he grins. “I’m glad I pissed you off with my pacing.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t punch me in the bar.” 

“I’m glad our flights got delayed,” Phil says, standing there for a second longer, smiling at Dan. 

He can’t wait now; he  _ actually _ has to go, and Dan waves, watching him leave and feeling an indescribable pang of sadness.

He shouldn’t feel this sad, parting with someone he met less than ten hours ago. 

He definitely shouldn’t feel the need to text him already.

Whatever spell Phil Lester has put on him… well, to be honest he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He likes the happiness that came with the easy conversation, and he likes the way he could make Phil laugh without even trying. 

And Phil knows there’s something there too; that’s the best part about it all. It isn’t some one-sided affection that Dan is misreading and trying too hard to do something about. He’s not going to feel like a freak in two hours when he can’t help but text Phil about getting on his own plane, or when he texts Phil pictures of all the vegan food that appears in front of him. He can’t wait to settle down with his laptop and watch countless videos from  _ AmazingPhil.  _

It’s definitely something - something good, and Dan can’t wait to find out what it is. 

Maybe he doesn’t hate airports as much after all. 


End file.
